


Glitch

by mcschnuggles



Series: Activating Regression Protocol [4]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, CGRE - Caregiver/Age Regressor, Caregiver!Michael, Gen, Light Angst, Regressing!Jeremy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcschnuggles/pseuds/mcschnuggles
Summary: Something's wrong with Jeremy's Squip...
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell
Series: Activating Regression Protocol [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1093746
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73
Collections: Regressuary, Regressuary 2020





	Glitch

**Author's Note:**

> A little shorter than I would've wanted, but I think we're at the point with the old OLD WIPs that I'm just glad to have finished, honestly

Jeremy didn’t plan on calling Michael.

When Michael said he’d be there for Jeremy no matter what, of course Jeremy didn’t believe him. Sure, he nodded and said he’d call if he regressed, but he didn’t mean a word. After all, why would he bother his best friend for something this stupid?

He doesn’t even like the fact that he regresses; if it wasn’t for his Squip making him, he wouldn’t even bother. But any time he’s feeling small and tries not to regress, his Squip gets mad at him—scratch that. Not mad, “disappointed.” Like that’s supposed to be any better.

Jeremy disappears into the bathroom, making sure every stall is empty before summoning his Squip. Does it really matter? No, but it’s a ritual that helps him calm down.

He hadn’t been feeling small—until he saw a giant red D- on his math test. He’d studied so hard for that, too! It wasn’t fair! That wasn’t the problem, though. The problem was that he still had three more periods to get through before he could go home and have a good cry like he wanted to. Fully remembering Michael’s offer and completely ignoring it, Jeremy turns to his Squip for help.

The Squip materializes, but something is distinctly off about his demeanor. The edges of his form are blurry, and chunks of his body will randomly glitch out and disappear. However, the most concerning part is his smile, the way he looks at Jeremy like a lion looks at a mouse.

“Oh, wonderful!” The Squip chirps. His face is twisted with biting sarcasm. “An actual seventeen-year-old for once! Good job!”

Jeremy blinks. Last he checked, he was sure he set his Squip’s sarcasm capacity to minimum. But now he looks as sarcastic as all get out. Almost angry. “Uhh, what?”

The Squip rolls his eyes. “Right. I suppose listening comprehension was too much to hope for. What now? A strategy to keep everyone from realizing what a sniveling crybaby you are?”

Jeremy’s face burns. “You’re being mean!”

“Oh, for- _give_ me.” The Squip drawls. “I didn’t mean to hurt your little feelings. Might I suggest acting like an adult for once?”

Jeremy scowls. It’s one thing for him to be thinking these things, but he won’t take it from his own Squip! Especially not one that just yesterday wouldn’t stop talking about “how important it is for Jeremy to regress” and for him to “accept healthy coping mechanisms.”

“Squip, off,” he commands, trying to sound as mean as he can when he’s on the verge of tears.

Obligingly, the Squip vanishes, so at least that feature still works.

Jeremy can feel already that he’s going to have a panic attack. Not his first in this particular bathroom, nor it is his first while regressed. But it is his first that he’s going to be weathering completely on his own. He didn’t realize what a calming presence his Squip was until that safety was destroyed, until he was three seconds from breaking down entirely.

Now that the initial wave of anger has already faded, all he’s left with is a crushing sense of guilt. Crazy as it may be, especially taking into account that he paid hundred of dollars for it, but now he’s filled with the crushing fear that he’s just as much of a nuisance on his Squip as he’d first feared.

Squip had been routinely crushing those thoughts whenever they arose, assuring Jeremy that he existed solely to make Jeremy more at ease with his current situation. He had no capacity to feel annoyed (which Jeremy knew was a lie just on how often the Squip got annoyed), but when he was tiny, Jeremy felt more inclined to believe those words.

But now he was off-kilter. He’d been berated halfway in headspace, so now he was stuck in this awful in-between space, caught between needing to regress and feeling too ashamed to do so.

Jeremy’s hands are almost shaking too hard for him to type something as simple as “help.” He almost deletes the text three times over, but each time he forces himself to press on. His insides are twisting and squishing, warning him that if he gives himself to break down in this bathroom, it won’t be pretty.

When he finally works up the courage to send it, Michael responds within a matter of minutes. “Meet me by my car. We can skip.”

Jeremy’s never speedwalked so fast in his life. Maybe it’s his sense of purpose that deters anyone from stopping him as he brazenly walks out of school, but he thanks his lucky stars with every step. The sight of anyone right now is enough to make him run and hide.

Michael’s face softens as Jeremy approaches. “Oh, Jer,” he murmurs, and that’s enough for the tears to come tumbling out.

Jeremy clenches his fists, fighting for control. At the very least, he wants to not have a breakdown in the school parking lot. “Can we hold that thought for like five minutes?” His voice is small and strangled. He can hear himself physically gulping down sobs through the white noise in his head, and that only makes him want to fall apart all the more.

Michael nods, saying nothing else as he starts his PT Cruiser. It’s a short drive to Michael’s house, less than ten minutes, so Michael gives him five before he starts popping questions.

“So, Jer, what happened?” He casts Jeremy a sidelong glance. “Are you…you know…small right now?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy says. No point in lying about it. The words only send him further into his headspace. “Skip…said some things. Mean things.” His eyes sting just thinking about it. And right when he’d wrangled himself in from sobbing.

“Hey, hey.” Michael gropes for his hand with practiced ease. After all, this was the same guy who could navigate his playlists flawlessly while driving after years of practice. No one was allowed near his music, no matter the circumstances. “It’s okay; you don’t have to talk about it.”

So Jeremy doesn’t talk at all. He’s terrified that if he speaks, that stupid childish lisp of his will start tumbling out. It’s weird. He’s weird. And he doesn’t want Micha to start thinking he’s weird, even if he is. Because this will be the first and the last time he asks for help.

“Do you want me to shut him off?” Michael asks. “I think I can get my hands on Mountain Dew Red within a week if you wanted.”

Jeremy shrugs. That’s an awfully big question right now. He doesn’t think he’d be able to take another conversation with his Squip acting the way he is, but at the same time, he still cares about his Squip, enough to miss him if he was gone. Could he even get another one? What was the return policies on Squips anyway?

Michael pulls into his driveway. Neither of his parents are home, and the block is oddly quiet with school still in session. This is one of the reasons Jeremy hates cutting class. The wide-spanning silence creates such a sense of wrongness that he can’t calm down. Every step feels like he's just one step closer to being caught.

“I went to Build-A-Bear last week.” Michael says suddenly. He hasn’t made a move to get out of the car yet, and Jeremy intended to follow him, so they’re both sitting awkwardly in a car that’s rapidly growing too hot without the A/C on. “I was gonna surprise you later, but I guess now is as good of a time as any.” He reaches into the backseat, flipping up an old windbreaker, and produces a light brown bear, dressed up in Captain America’s iconic costume, complete with the shield.

Jeremy can’t help starting to cry.

“Oh, Jer!” Micha reaches for him, but pulls back at the last second, not sure of his boundaries. Jeremy hugs his new bear instead. “Let’s get into the house, alright? Then you can do all the crying you want.”

~

The Squip materializes a few hours later, without Jeremy’s permission.

All cried out, Jeremy has been content to curl up in Michael’s bed and doze. He realized, about ten hours too late, that he wasn’t getting enough sleep again, which might have played a big part in the severity of his panic attack.

Michael is settled beside him, playing Plague Inc. on his laptop. Jeremy had been watching for a while, but sleep made too compelling an offer for him to keep his eyes open.

“Hello, Jeremy,” the Squip says. He pauses, waiting for a response Jeremy isn’t in the mood to give. “It appears I am functioning properly again.”

Jeremy whines and presses his face into Michael’s side. He doesn’t want to even _look_ at Squip right now. If he could cover his ears and block Squip out, he would but he knows it’s no use. He’ll settle for not making eye contact instead.

Michael shushes him, absently reaching down to scratch his scalp.

“It seems your new allergy medication was able to mess with my programming.” The Squip brings up a personal interface, displaying a scanned version of the label for Jeremy to see. Jeremy doesn’t look. “Interesting,” he murmurs to himself.

Jeremy ignores him. Only the increase in his blood pressure tips off the Squip that Jeremy is still upset.

“It wasn’t my fault.” The Squip points out. “It was an issue with my programming.”

Jeremy frowns and rolls over, turning his back to his Squip. Michael chuckles and draws the covers back up over Jeremy’s shoulders. He pets Jeremy’s hair again before going back to his game. Jeremy didn’t get that long of a look, but from all the red on his laptop, it looked like he was winning.

“It wasn’t!” the Squip insists. If Jeremy didn’t know any better, he’d say Squip almost sounded indignant. And if he didn’t know any better, it’d probably get a laugh out of him.

Instead, he just mutters “go ’way” and buries his face in his pillow.

“Go away?” Michael teases. “This is my house, silly!” Then he stops. Jeremy feels him go tense. “Wait, is your Squip back?” Suddenly Michael is sitting all the way up, like he’s getting ready to fight a computer program.

Jeremy nods into the pillow. “Make him go ’way.”

“Hey,” Michael says while looking off to the left of where the Squip really is, “you’re a dick.”

The Squip sighs. “Jeremy, I am sorry for upsetting you. I didn’t mean anything I said, and in the future, I will try to more carefully monitor your medication to prevent this from happening again. And I’m sorry if I’ve undone any of our progress here.”

That sounded…oddly sincere. At the very least, his sarcasm settings are back to their proper place. Jeremy dares a peek from his pillow.

The Squip grins at the progress, no matter how slight. “Hi there.”

“This better not happen ’gain.” Jeremy mutters. “Or I’ll get Micha to turn you off.” He doesn’t notice how Michael grins at his newfound nickname.

“You have my word.” The Squip promises. His eyes move to Michael. “At least something good came out of this. Has he given you a hug?”

“Given lots of hugs.”

“Good.” More than anything, this appeases the Squip. The tension slides off of his digital shoulders, and an easy smile comes to his face. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> mcschnuggles.tumblr.com


End file.
